This was made for the Milestones QAF Writing Challenge. Go check out the others entries, they're great.

This story is a gap-filler following 3e08.

Brian POV

I can't get enough of him: his skin, his scent, his taste; everything is a reminder of our past together, and, dare I say, relationship.

He left me. He walked out of the loft for someone else. Someone who could give him all the bullshit he thought he wanted, but I knew better. Flowers, chocolate, candlelit dinners… this was all an excuse. Love doesn't exist. It's just a pretext used by straight people desperate to get laid.

So why did it hurt so much when I saw Justin kissing him? Why did it feel like a piece of my heart was ripped out when I saw him slide his hand into his hand and leave? I don't want to think about that.

Thankfully, fate was on my side. Justin came back to me. Sooner than I thought, but still not soon enough. I had the awful displeasure of spending to many nights alone in my bed. Tricks didn't satisfy me anymore. The pleasure was over before it really began. The high of my orgasm was quickly replaced by a profound loneliness. Those pathetic tricks were not Justin. They left a bitter taste in my mouth. Every fuck was tainted by my memories. There was no tenderness in my life anymore, no caress, no kiss, no hugs, and certainly no falling asleep together. Just this constant feeling of solitude.

Once his romantic escapade was over, Justin persecuted me to take him back, and even if I tried to stay distant and detached by his pleading, inside my heart was swelling.

Tonight, he finally succeeded. We are in my office, and the only thought I have is 'this is it, tonight is the night where Justin comes back'. I am breathing again, he still wants me. My body is craving Justin's contact. I need to feel him beside me, against me, around me. I need him.

After a chaste kiss that "seals the deal," we wildly fuck three times in my office before I can even think clearly again. I miss it so much. This closeness.

Once we are in the loft, I head to the bedroom, slowly taking my clothes off. Right behind me, I hear Justin's breath speed up with each garment touching the floor. Sitting on the edge of the bed, my hand finds its way to my cock, leisurely stroking it while Justin is hastily undressing.

Soon, he's standing naked in front of me, unsure how to act. It's weird to have him back in this room.

"Come closer," I tell him, afraid he'll vanish. Of course, he complies.

When Justin is within arm's reach, I can't resist. I kiss him. Hard. So hard I'm sure it will leave bruises, but it doesn't matter. My mouth won't spend another minutes away from him.

I can feel his desire matching my own. His soft silky lips are pressed tightly against mine. It is a vital need for both of us.

As savage and primal as our sex in my office was, now I want it to be slow, take my time to discover Justin again.

We kiss for a few moments before I guide him to the bathroom. Nothing is hotter than Justin wet and ready to be fucked.

In the shower, we're soaping each others bodies. My heart is aching for the intimacy of Justin's touch. He knows my body so well, maybe as well as I know his. He massages every zone that drives me crazy, but also the one that calms me, relaxes me.

After a few minutes, his hands slide down to my ass and press our bodies together. I pin him against the window glass in response, but that doesn't stop Justin. He caresses, squeezes, and spreads until I'm unable to focus on anything else but him. A long finger slowly makes its way to my hole, tentatively stroking the area around. This unusual gesture brings back forgotten memories.

Justin didn't fuck me often. I can even count the times on one hand. It's not that I don't like it. It's the feeling of being left raw. I can't hide when Justin is inside me, touching places that haven't been touched in a long time and by very few. When I give in, he is the one in control. I'm just here to feel him moving inside me, bringing me to this exquisite, intense pleasure I don't allow myself often.

Every time, he sees it in my eyes, in my breath, in my movement. I don't voice it, but he knows: I love him. That little persistent trick gets through the shell, but I don't want to show him. Not any more.

I used to think that he understood me, that he knew that behind the word and the act, I wanted him with me. Unfortunately, something happened. Slowly but surely, he doubted me, doubted our unexpressed bound. I repeatedly saw the disappointment in Justin's eyes. He started to ask for proof that I couldn't give him. It was impossible. So I reacted the only way I knew, with tricks, booze and drugs, because I knew it was just a matter of time before he left me.

When Mikey told me that Justin was seeing someone else, I put even more distance between us. Otherwise, he would have stayed. In the end, he didn't try to fight for us, at least not much.

One night, he came back to our apartment, completely broken, dry tears on his face, and I knew it was over. Justin was going to leave me. I didn't even talk to him. He undressed and laid down next to me, waiting for an acknowledgement that would never come. I couldn't give him what he wanted. I'd told him from the beginning that I didn't do relationships. He laid down on his side of the bed, away from me. I closed the distance between us and put my arm around him, trying to memorize what I thought was our last night.

Back in the shower, Justin is sucking on my neck while his finger's slowly creating a rhythm in my ass that makes my knees weak. In the past, I didn't allow him to finger me often. I am and never will be anyone's bottom boy, but tonight is different. Tonight is about me. I want to feel him in me, to feel our bound. I need to know that he's still here, that he never truly left me.

After a couple of minutes, my hands are pressed against the glass, seeking support. In one movement, Justin falls to his knees and takes my hard cock in his mouth. He sucks me hard, licking and nibbling on the perfect places, two fingers now moving in my entrance, but I don't want to come like this.

I take my dick out of his perfect mouth and pull him to a standing position. My fingers intertwine in his wet hair and guide his mouth against mine. I kiss Justin softly, silently telling him what I want.

He turns off the water and I grab two towels for us. When we are all clean and dry, I take his hand, give him a quick peck on the lips, and lead him to the bedroom.

At the foot of the bed, face to face, I lock our stares, trying to convey my secret desire. The intensity in his eyes is too heavy. I smile and turn around to lie on the bed.

I hear Justin gasp behind me, but it's a normal reaction. I'm on my stomach and I have never before initiated this. Justin has always been the one who asks for it and since it is so rare, I used to resign myself, and lie back and think of England. I tried not to show how affected I truly was.

He crawls on the bed, and rests on his side beside me, his cock brushing against my hips.

"Are you sure, Brian?" He asks and adds in a whisper, "Is this really what you want?"

I brush my hand against his arm and nod.

Justin caresses my back with his hand. Just a ghost of a touch. He plants a kiss in the middle of my spine and I repress a moan.

"Roll over. I want to see you," he says.

My eyes widen a little at his demand. He has never taken me like that. We were usually always faced away from each other. I don't want him to know that. I am not sure I can bear to see him fucking me, but his pleading eyes and tone leave me no other choice. I close my eyes and roll over.

My dick is painfully erect since being in the shower, but now it's leaking heavily on my abs.

Justin's fingertips slowly travel up and down my torso, causing shivers through my body. I turn my head, my eyes still closed under the heavy emotions.

Suddenly, I picture Justin in the same position with him, caressing him, kissing him, fucking-no, making love to him. Jealousy rushes through my veins. Imagining Justin with someone else, someone who gives him all the romantic gestures and love declarations he desires, breaks a small part of my heart.

With hindsight, I realize that it's not that I can't give him what he wants, it's that I won't. I don't believe in relationships. Justin was supposed to come and go, not come and stay. Life has taught me that people can't always stay together. There is no such thing as forever. Those people who believe in "love" usually sacrifice what they are, to please their partner. I don't want that. I don't want to change for someone. Once you're taken down that road, things start getting complicated. With me, what you see is what you get. There are no hidden parts, no secrets and no bullshit. I will not change for anybody.

That's why I don't understand why I let this trick stick around for two years. And why am I about to let him fuck me?

Justin probably notices my changing mood, because his fingers slide through my hair, soothing my bad thoughts.

"What is it?" he murmurs in my ear.

I look at him and without answering, I kiss him. I don't want to talk, otherwise he'll see my pain and I don't want him to.

My arms automatically encircle him. I won't let him go this time. I bring him on top of me. His full weight pins me to the bed, his elbows resting on either side of my head.

Justin breaks our kiss and looks at me.

"I missed you so much, Brian. You are so beautiful. I want you," he said in a whisper.

How many times did he tell him the exact same words with the same expression full of love?

I turn my head slightly and close my eyes again. I need to let go of this jealousy. He was never mine, he'll never truly be mine. I have no right to feel this way.

Despite my reaction, Justin continued his worship, "Your face…" he drags his lips against my check, "your eyes," his pointed tongue travels just below my brow, "your lips, so soft and perfect against mine," his nose skims my mouth, "your wonderful body," the back of his hand brushes my side, his eyes following its path. He pauses to pinch my nipple before resting it on my thigh.

Justin stares at me. My heart speeds up and my throat's constricting. It's too much. The emotions are too heavy. He needs to stop.

"But it's nothing compared to you. This is all superficial," Justin says, briefly looking at my body. "The most beautiful, enchanting, loving part is you. You are kind, and generous, but also loyal, honest. I feel so privileged to know the part of you that you don't show anyone else. I've been so stupid," he stops and takes a deep breath before adding, "I love you so much."

With those last words, I push him away and sit up on the bed, my head buried in my hands.

"How can you say that? A week ago you were still with Ethan. Probably telling him the exact same things," I spit out the words without looking at him.

He comes up behind me, his hands on my back. "You know it's not true. It's different with you. It's always been," he said.

I glare at him, not trusting my voice.

He caresses my back and continued, "You know it is. Whether you admit it or not, there has always been something between us. Ethan was… a mistake that I had to make. I thought he could give me more than you. I thought that you didn't want me, that I was just the trick you let stick around." With his hand resting on my shoulder, he adds, "You didn't want me. The fact that you let me leave so easily was just another proof that you didn't care. You didn't try to stop me. Brian, you let me leave with someone else. Why didn't you do anything?" His voice is calm, but I catch a glimpse of bitterness.

I'm not ready to answer his question, not even sure I have one.

Instead, still facing the bathroom, I ask, "Did you love him?"

His hand falls from my shoulder. "I thought I did."

I turned and our eyes meet. "Do you still love me?"

"Never stopped," Justin says.

It is the only thing I need to know. I crush our lips together, literally devouring his mouth.

Pushing Justin against the bed, I straddle him. My tongue is laced with his, not fighting for dominance but desperately seeking a deeper connection. My hands touch his body, insatiable. I can't believe he's here. I can't believe he came back.

My body is entirely connected to Justin's. Our legs, our hips, our mouths, our dicks, every part is linked, but it's not enough. I want more.

Still kissing him, I roll over and bring him on top of me. He slowly brushes his hips, and I can't hold anything back. My moan is lost in our kiss and my hands find their way to his ass, urging him for a harder thrust.

The precum leaking from our erected cocks melts together to create the perfect lube. We are so perfect together, in complete sync, but it's still not enough. I need more.

I stop his movement and grab a condom. I put it in his hand, our eyes locked. I think my heart's going to stop. There are too many emotions, I'm scared, and Justin knows it, but I need to know. I need to feel his love.

He leans down, kisses my lips one time before pulling back just a little, our noses still touching. We are sharing the same air; his scent is assaulting my mind. My breath is picking up and my jaw starts to shake.

"I'm sorry, Brian," Justin says. "I shouldn't have doubted you. I'm so sorry." His hand caresses my face.

I close my eyes and focus on not breaking down. I can't look at him. I won't talk about it. It hurts too much.

"Please, don't hide," he says, trying to make me open my eyes. "I need to know that you forgive me, that we can get passed it."

He doesn't understand. If I say that I forgive him, it means that I admit that he's more than a trick. It says that we are in a relationship, and I can't do that. Not now. Not after what happened. It's too soon. My mind refuses it.

Our noses are still touching. I open my eyes and slightly shake my head, pleading him with my eyes to understand, not to force me to say it.

He studies me for a long time before he nods and grabs our cocks in one hand, slowly stroking us together. My head is buried in his neck. I suck on the tender skin here, mark him as mine.

His hand that isn't pressing our dicks together, sneaks around my balls, tugging and rolling them together.

In the past, I tried to keep my reaction to a minimum with Justin. I didn't want him to know how much I liked it. But now, my moans echo loudly in the loft, even if deadened in Justin's skin.

A few moments pass and I'm about to come, when he stops every movement. Little fucker knows I hate it. He looks at me, smirking. Slowly, he slides down my body. I know what he's up to because I've done it to him countless times, but it doesn't stop a shudder from running through my body.

"Open your legs," Justin says.

I tentatively comply, not used to be in this situation. My legs are bent, widely spread; my feet flatten on the bed. A cold breeze brushes my hole. I am exposed and it makes me feel uncomfortable.

I want this. This is my choice, what I want, right? I tried to convince myself.

Justin murmurs incoherent words like beautiful, love, hot and exquisite, but I can barely hear them between the sloppy kisses he places on my inner thighs.

My skin is on fire. I have to repress the urge to take control.

"Stop teasing, Justin," I say in a husky voice that I barely recognize.

Of course, he doesn't stop. I felt him smile against my skin, his tongue now against my sensitive skin at the junction of my balls and thigh.

A loud gasp escapes my open mouth when he bits on the area. I can't hold back. My hands fisted in his hair, I pull his head away. I bring him back to my face and crush our lips together.

I take the condom out of his hand and hastily open it. After it's on his cock, I grab the lube intending to pour some on my finger, when Justin takes it from me.

"Let me do it," he says.

I barely have time to nod before his fingers are already circling my hole and his mouth sucking my cock. It feels good. The sensitivity of the area is madding. Justin's not in yet, but I can feel him everywhere.

His eyes study me while he pushes his fingertip in. I want to scream. He doesn't have to be so gentle. The thin barrier of control I have is about to break. The more time passes, the more my doubts are reoccurring.

Despite what Justin is doing, I can't open up to him. I need to keep some kind of control.

He prepares me for a few minutes. At first, slowly with one finger, but he soon have three fingers tortuously moving in my ass. The emotions in the room are too oppressive.

After all this time, Justin is back in our bed, but even though it feels familiar, it's strange to have him back. Too much time has passed.

Once he thinks that I'm ready for him, he gently pulls out his long fingers. I hold back a gasp at lost. He releases my cock and kisses his way to my balls. He licks, sucks and tugs them until it's almost too much and slides further down. Just one light touch with the tip of his tongue and he's gone. He grabs my knees and tries to put them on his shoulders. My heart speeds up.

The second his hands are in contact with the back of my knees, I realize that I can't do it. Even if I want to, I can't give him this. Not now. I tried to put the break-up aside, to forget that he's been with someone else, and I succeeded. At least partially, but I can't let him see me. It's not that I don't forgive him. It's that I don't trust him. Why would I open up to someone who's going to leave me anyway?

Justin can think all he wants, but he is the only person I have ever let into my life; and he left me. When it became complicated or when he didn't get what he wanted, he left, abandoning everything that we ever had. Abandoning us.

How can I know that he won't do the same thing again? How can I trust him? He holds too much in his hands. I can't give him what he wants. Not because I don't want to, but because I can't.

I resist his grip and shake my head. A few seconds pass, silent words are exchanged between us, and recognition and sadness enters his stare. He knows that I won't give in to him.

When sorrow passes in his features, I turn him around and bury his head in a pillow, like I used to when I fucked him.

I just need to wait a couple of minutes before he pushes his ass against my cock. I don't know what he thought about during those minutes, but I can only hope he understands why I can't. My wound needs time to heal.

I take a new condom out its package and roll it down my erect member. Seconds later, I'm ball deep inside Justin. My upper body falls on his back. I slowly breathe against his shoulder blades. He feels so good, so perfect around me. Why can't he see that we are perfect for each other? It's never the same with others.

He's the one. The only one I can imagine a future with. It's not a surprise; he's the only one I kept around so long. Maybe one day he'll finally see it, but right now, he can't. I can't.

When we're on the verge of coming, I still my movement and kiss the nape of his neck.

His hand comes resting on mine. I intertwine our fingers and he squeezes them.

Out of breath, my body covered in sweat, I breathe against his wet skin and say, "I'm sorry I let you go".

After we both come, I pull out, hearing his gasp at the lost. I roll over on my side, facing away from Justin. My heart doesn't slow down. My emotions are still on the verge. I don't know what's wrong, why I feel so raw. My shaky hands are pressed against my chest, as if to hold me together. I close my eyes tightly, wishing that this feeling would go away.

A few minutes pass and I don't feel better. Justin is lying beside me. He doesn't know what to do.

I can't stand this situation. I stand up, put on some clothes, grab my shoes and coat and leave. At the bottom of the bedroom steps, without turning around, I say, "I need time."

I step out of the building, the cold air slapping my face. I take a deep breath and walk. I don't know where Justin and I are going and if I'll be able to do it, but right now, I need to take the control back. I need to let go of the hurt. I need time.

It's my first QAF fanfic, so I'm quite nervous about it. I wanted to give my own version of what happened when the camera went off. I always found that Brian took Justin back way too easily after the whole Ethan thing.

My main concern with this fic was to stay true to the character. I think it's hilarious when I read a fic and Brian calls Justin baby, or when after a donut/coffee breakfast, he says ILY. This is absurd, Brian would never eat a donut!

Thanks for reading.